Revenge
by Phoenix-Fire Power
Summary: Italy finally gets revenge on France for the pain and the murder he brought onto the Holy Roman Empire. SeriousItaly


**A/N: ****hey people!**

**I'm experimenting with doing serious Italy. This is some time after the fall of the Holy Roman Empire but before the establishment of the German Confederation. **

**Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: ****I own nothing.**

Italy didn't move as he twirled the bottle of wine in his hands. He slowly brought the bottle to his lips and tilted it to take a drink. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Most people believed that he was stupid. That he was clueless and he didn't know or notice anything.

One couldn't be an artist without noticing and realizing a lot of details.

One couldn't be the blood heir of the Roman Empire without being strong. They couldn't handle the stress and the pain brought on by those lands and history.

His eyes were trained on one painting only. A painting he had made.

A painting of the Holy Roman Empire.

His lips curled back in a snarl at the familiar stab of pain through his heart.

He stood, the bottle dangling on his fingertips. He walked slowly until he reached a small cabinet. He opened it and reached for a label less bottle he knew he had. He had taken it out many times and stroked it, the same plan running through his head over and over again.

The pain in his heart was overwhelming. He clutched the bottle tightly in his hand by the neck until it cracked and broke, falling to the floor.

Just the way he wanted to do it to one man. The man who had caused the fall of the Holy Roman Empire.

France.

Italy licked his lips as he gently took the bottle and walked towards his wine rack.

Perhaps it was time to visit his 'brother'.

* * *

><p>France was visibly surprised to see Italy on his porch.<p>

"Italy." he exclaimed. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Italy was smiling brightly like usual. He lifted the bottle of wine. "I found this old wine in my cellar big brother! I wanted to drink it with you!"

France grinned and embraced the other man. "Oh aren't you the most thoughtful little boy? Well come, come! Make yourself comfortable."

Italy grinned as well. "I knew you would like it."

He handed the bottle to France. "I don't know how old it is though."

France waved away Italy's concerns. "Does not matter, the fact that you have thought about sharing it with me shall make it one of the best wines I will ever drink."

Italy blushed. "You don't have to say that."

France smiled at Italy. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable. I will bring two glasses at once."

France entered the kitchen and took out two glasses and a corkscrew. He took the cork out of the wine and waved the scent of the wine towards himself.

"Ah. Smells just like Italy." he said. He placed the bottle alongside the glasses on a tray and walked to the living room where Italy had been patently waiting. He poured two glasses and gave one of them to Italy.

"A toast to brothers." France said. Italy smiled and nodded and the two clinked glasses together. France brought the glass to his lips and closed his eyes, he didn't see Italy simply bring the glass down onto the armrest of the couch and watch France.

France drained half the glass in a single sip. He smacked his lips together.

"Not that old but still has a hint of vintage to it." he sighed. He opened his eyes. "What do you think?"

Italy shrugged. "Tastes alright to me."

France swirled the remaining contents in his glass before draining the rest of it. "Leaves a funny after taste however."

"Really?"

France nodded and rubbed his eyes. His limbs were starting to get rather heavy. "What is this made from?"

Italy picked up the bottle and rubbed a finger over the label. "It doesn't say. Want some more?"

"Please." France said offering the glass. Italy poured more into the glass and France sipped on it.

France coughed slightly and rubbed his chest. It was getting harder to breathe.

"Are you sure that wine isn't expired?" he asked almost wearily.

"Pretty sure." Italy said.

Frances eyes fell on the still full glass in Italy's hand. "Italy?"

"Yes big brother?"

"Why haven't you taken a single sip?" Ice was starting to creep along his body almost freezing him.

"Because I don't want what is happening to you to happen to me. Big. Brother." Italy said.

The glass fell from Frances hand and onto the floor, breaking into pieces and flying everywhere.

"Italy." France wheezed. "What did you do to me?"

"It won't kill you, don't worry." Italy said. He put his glass on the table and started towards France. He tilted his head to the side. "What's wrong big brother, are you feeling ill?"

Italy caught France just as he started to fall to the floor and gently set him on the floor. The look of innocence on Italy's face was almost comical yet believable. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Italy. What did you do to me?" France repeated. He couldn't move.

"It's kinda like a sedative." Italy said. He sat on top of France with his legs on either side of Frances body. Almost like he was straddling him. "You see it paralyzes you so that you can't move but you can still speak. And now I can make you talk. And I want answers."

"Italy."

"First off." Italy continued as if he didn't hear France. "I want to know, who killed the Holy Roman Empire?"

France closed his eyes. "Italy please this was a long time ago."

Italy curled his fingers along Frances neck. "That's not the answer I was looking for. Tell me, who killed the Holy Roman Empire?"

"I did." France whispered.

Italy nodded, almost as if he had been expecting that answer. "Second question. How did you kill him?"

"A group of bosses demolished his empire, his name, and his lands. He was killed by the piece of paper that dissolved him." France said.

Italy nodded again although his hands tightened on France. "I wish I could believe you. But Austria found his body. He didn't let me see the wounds on him but I know they were there. I will ask one more time, how did you kill the Holy Roman Empire?"

"I didn't lay a finger on him." France insisted.

Italy let go of his neck, only to hit as hard as he was able to the front of Frances neck directly on his Adams apple.

"Liar." Italy hissed. "Tell. Me. The. Truth. You owe me that much."

"I don't owe you anything Italy." France said.

Italy smiled. It wasn't his usual carefree and bright smile. The last time France had seen that smile it had been on England's face as he conquered land after land.

Italy reached into his boot and pulled out a sheathed knife. He slowly slid the knife out of its entrapment and without warning plunged it into Frances shoulder.

Italy covered Frances mouth so his scream was muffled.

"Can't let anyone hear you." Italy murmured. "Now answer my question. How did you kill the Holy Roman Empire?"

"With my sword." France finally said.

"Where?"

"I…I plunged my sword into his stomach first until it penetrated him entirely." France finally whispered. "Then I jerked it to the side completely."

"That's not it." Italy hissed. "What else?"

"When he fell to his knees. I slit his throat."

Italy nodded as he slid the knife from Frances shoulder slowly.

"How old was the Holy Roman Empire when you did this?" Italy asked. "How old did he look?"

"He didn't look any older than when you lived with him." France said.

"So he was still a child, yet you killed him." Italy said.

"I didn't do it with a smile on my face and a song in my heart." France spat.

"Liar." Italy said pressing the knife to his throat. "I heard you once when you were drunk and boasting. How you were the one to end that foolish child. How you were the one who killed him. How you lovingly and full of joy killed him."

"I should kill you." Italy said. "But it wouldn't matter would it? Even if I killed you, you would come back to life. Because your land is still there!" at the end of his sentence Italy plunged the knife back into Frances body. Anywhere he was able to. "Because your land is still in your name! Because your people are still here and believe in you!" his arms, chest, shoulders, anywhere. "Because…because."

The knife fell from Italy's hands weakly and he slumped forward slightly.

He slid off of Frances body and walked off. France could hear Italy rummaging through his house searching for something.

When Italy came back France felt his heart skip a beat. In Italy's small and artistic hands was one of Frances swords. Italy resumed his position on top of France and brought the sword forward slightly on to Frances body. He pushed enough for the cool metal to penetrate and cut his body but not leave anything life threatening. Italy took a handkerchief out of his pocket and stuffed it into Frances mouth.

"I loved the Holy Roman Empire." Italy said as he ran the sword over Frances neck, chest, stomach, arms. "I love him so much. I still think of him practically all the time. I think about everything about him. Including the fact that he never really got the chance to grow and become a man. Because of you. You stole that away from him."

Italy positioned the sword directly over Frances stomach.

"You said that you killed the Holy Roman Empire." Italy whispered. "By first plunging the sword all the way through his stomach, right?"

Italy pushed forward. The sword sliced easily through the skin, the organs, and the muscles of Frances stomach. Italy continued forward until the sword touched the floor. France screamed, the sound muffled by the handkerchief.

"Then you jerked it the side. Right big brother?" Italy continued to whisper. He slowly pushed the sword to Frances right until it ripped itself free. France closed his eyes and shuddered, the feeling of blood running down his body and onto his carpet clear.

"Last but not least." Italy whispered. "You slit his throat open."

France kept his eyes closed as Italy placed the sword on Frances neck.

Italy whispered a word that France wasn't able to hear before he sharply slid the sword across Frances neck ripping the skin open and allowing the blood to flow.

"Never doubt." Italy whispered. "The blood of the Roman Empire. Big brother."

He slid himself off of Frances body once more and gently placed the sword next to him.

He took the bottle of spiked wine and threw it to the ground. The bottle immediately broke and the wine flowing like a river mixing with the blood flowing from Frances body creating a swirl of colors.

Italy tilted his head to the side as he watched the colors swirl. "Ve." he sighed almost mournfully. "Wish I remembered to bring my paints, this is such a nice little picture."

He turned and left the lifeless body of France and walked home with a smile on his face.

"I wonder if big brother came home from Spain's house yet?" he wondered out loud.

* * *

><p>"I thought you guys would never visit." Prussia exclaimed as he welcomed both Italy and France into his house.<p>

"I'm sorry Prussia, I've been really busy lately." Italy said. France nodded as he carefully walked a short distance from Italy.

Prussia waved away their apologies. "Doesn't matter, you're here now. And there is someone that I wanted you to meet."

Prussia walked to the staircase and called up "Germany! Come down here!"

"Germany? A new country?" Italy asked.

Prussia nodded. "Yep my little brother and the one who is going to unite the German speaking lands."

Italy had his back to the staircase. "What's Germany like?"

Prussia grinned. "A very cute kid."

"Brother?" a painfully familiar voice asked from behind Italy. He felt himself and France freeze at the voice. Italy forced himself to turn around.

A very familiar face stared up at him.

Prussia stepped forward and picked up the child. He bounced him on his hip slightly. "This is my little brother Germany. Germany this is North Italy and France."

Germany bowed his head slightly in their direction as he gripped onto Prussia's shirt tightly. "It's nice to meet you."

Prussia grinned as he set Germany back on the ground. He fidgeted slightly under Italy's and Frances gazes.

Germany looked up at Prussia. "Can I go play in the garden?"

"Sure, why not?" Prussia said waving his hand. Without waiting another moment Germany ran away with Italy's eyes following his every move.

"Is that…" he murmured.

He looked at Prussia beseechingly. "Prussia. Is he…"

There was a hint of pity in Prussia's eyes. "It doesn't matter who he was, he doesn't remember those times either way, what matters is who he is."

"But he was…right?"

Prussia nodded. "That's not why I asked you to come now though."

"Then why did you?" Italy asked not looking at him.

"I want you to be his friend." Prussia said.

Italy wiped the tears that had suddenly gathered in his eyes. He nodded enthusiastically.

"The gardens are straight forward and to the right." Prussia hinted.

Without looking at either France or Prussia Italy almost ran forward to where Germany was at this moment playing with his dogs.

**I kinda got carried away with this and I kinda fell in love with serious Italy.**

**Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this.**

**Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.**

**Until next time.**

**This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.**


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